Page 2 of Mile High Player


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I left Texas, my team, where I’d been playing going on six years, my family of the heart, and came back home to Oakland, California. Bought a small house near my old neighborhood,. Living close to my family and friends for the first time in forever. It felt right, helped rebuild me.

It took me a while to heal. Both physically and emotionally. But, I’m there now. So, when I got a call from a former teammate recruiting for a British team’s coaching position, I didn’t hesitate. I’m ready.

Football is the love of my life. It kept me out of the gang ridden streets of my youth, gave me the opportunity to get an education, and pursue a successful career. I owe it everything. It made me the man I am.

I rub at my now healed clavicle, and my ‘FOREVER’tattoo inked on the scarred skin. The reminder of a love only second to that of my family. Of the one thing beside them, that’ll never betray me.

ANNA

I slump into the restaurant’s booth, tilting my head back on the worn leather, and close my eyes. Trying to block out the noise of the surrounding crowd. Exhausted, hungry, and worried. My feet and back ache from hours of discomfort, my stomach grumbles from lack of real food, and I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever make it to London and my week of vacation with my sister.

The airline distributed food vouchers after we’d been stranded in LAX for most of the day, and it became clear that whatever was going on with our plane would require more than a quick fix on the tarmac.

That’s how, close to a hundred famished and tired passengers, descended on the food court. Armed with our whopping twenty dollars vouchers. It wasn’t pretty. There’s been yelling, pushing, crying, and not just from kids.

I really didn’t need this layover from hell. All I was asking for was a break, a change of scenery, time away.

A week ago, I broke off with my longtime boyfriend, Ryan. And, although I know our story has run its course, I’m still heartbroken. I’ve lost one of my closest friends. I don’t know if Ryan will ever get over what he sees as a betrayal on my part. Don’t know if we’ll ever be able to salvage our friendship. And, I feel lost without a part of my identity that, for so long, defined me as belonging to someone.

We met during our freshman year at U.C. Berkeley. I had just moved to California from Ivory Coast, in West Africa. Ryan is from Oregon. He was another lonely kid in unfamiliar territory. We became friends and clung on to each other. Sitting together in class, joining the same study groups, hanging out. And ended up becoming a couple. In one of those ‘why not?’ type of situations. Over the years, I’ve wondered if we’d have gotten together under different circumstances.

I love and respect Ryan. He is and always will be my friend. But, we were stuck in place. Honest enough with each other and ourselves to not take the next step in our relationship, marriage. But also, too used to one another, and to the life we’d built. Our romantic connection was long gone, and we clung on to our attachment and comfort zone. Ten years is a long time, especially when you’re a young adult. We grew together, then apart.

My dark thoughts are interrupted by the clatter of a tray landing on my table, and I raise my eyes up, up, up to meet the handsome face of the giant jerk from earlier.

“No, please. Not now,” I plead in a tired voice, shaking my head and raising my hand in an arresting motion.

He gives me one of his rueful smiles and settles down.

“I came to make peace,” Mr. Hot guy rumbles in his deep voice.

“Fine, thank you. Now go, please. I’m too tired for this,” I repeat, motioning between us, and not giving a damn about courtesy.

His only response is another grin. Then, he grabs his sandwich in one huge paw, and heartedly bites into it. After chewing for a bit, eyes never leaving mine, he adds,

“I’m Jake.”

I stare, dumbfounded by this man’s audacity, and fascinated by how insanely attractive he is. Our earlier encounter did not do him justice. His skin tone is a delectable deep tan. His almond-shaped eyes, as dark as midnight, and forever twinkling with mischief. Thick, luscious hair, longer on top, cropped close on the sides. Bone structure close to perfection, masculine nose that slightly bends to the side, cut jaw, high cheekbones.

I wonder what the story is behind the small, faded scars scattered over his face. One runs across his upper lip, another through his eyebrow. There’s one on the bump of his nose, on his cheekbone, at the angle of his square jaw. It’s like a call for soft kisses to be spread all over his face. I watch his lips move while he’s speaking, then chewing, fascinated by their movement, and what it incites in me.Fuuuuck!I just got out of a long-term relationship. I’m not ready to jump into anything, or on anyone! Hot guy or not. I stand abruptly, grab my own food tray, shoulder my bag and make my way through the busy food court, toward a free table at the other end of the room.

Hearing Jake yell at my departing form, “oh, come on!”

There’s a note of amusement in his voice, and my own lips quirk up into a smile.

JAKE

“Attention, please. Passengers of flight RK49 to London Heathrow. Would all seniors and persons flying with children, please approach the counter?”

Now, what? Beat and sprawled out in the departure lounge’s seating area, I watch as a line starts to form at our gate’s desk. Filled with cranky old ladies and crying toddlers. Please, tell me they’re not about to give us more refreshment vouchers.

As an older gentleman passes me on his way back, I rise from the metal seat I was occupying, and lightly tap his arm.

“Excuse me, sir. What’s going on, now?”

“Looks like we’re spending the night in the airport’s hotel. They’re getting us, old folks, and families with kids, sorted first.”

“Thanks, have a good night.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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